


Everything To Me

by Shhhhh (Lara_03)



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: 2009, 2012, 2015 - Freeform, Angst, Mentions of alcohol, Phandom - Freeform, She by Dodie Clark, Songfic, Unrequited Love, join the pain train, mentions of vomit, she, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-16
Updated: 2016-08-16
Packaged: 2018-08-09 04:57:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7787590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lara_03/pseuds/Shhhhh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A songfic based off She by Dodie Clark in which everything is sad and nothing gets resolved.<br/>A story about unrequited love, repressing feelings and life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everything To Me

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, so first off Disclaimeryaimerydingdong: I do not own She, the very talented Dodie Clark does, and if you haven't you should go check out the song (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vpg3gtwepSs) and subscribble to her awesome mcshizzle while you're at it, I also don't own Dan or Phil as they are both real people, and this story is a work of fiction that is not meant to cast any aspersions on their lives or characters and is meant only for the purpose of entertainment. Enjoy!

_Am I allowed to look at her like that,_

Whenever Dan watched one of AmazingPhil’s videos he always got this strange feeling in his chest, an odd tugging sensation that was hard to ignore in the moment but easy to pass off once it was gone. This wasn’t going to be so easy to ignore.

It was 2AM, and four hours into a Skype call, and that feeling wasn’t just in his chest anymore, it was coursing through his veins with a terrifying intensity that made him forget he hadn’t participated in the conversation for half an hour and had simply been watching the way Phil’s eyes lit up, even through his shitty laptops screen, or how his tongue kept peeking through his teeth when a smile pulled at his cheeks as he talked animatedly about the next video he had planned.

_Could it be wrong when she’s just so nice to look at,_

When they first met Dan forgot how to breathe.

The pixels in his screen had not done Phil justice, unable to identify that Phil’s eyes were not only the prettiest shade of blue but also held a swirling galaxy of yellow and green that seemed to give off light instead of just reflecting it like they were supposed to, not fully able to capture the soft lines that appeared around Phil’s eyes as he smiled, and certainly not the intoxicating scent that had filled his nostrils with an indescribable warmth the last time he’d inhaled.

Eventually their hug ended, and they exited the train station, and Dan finally remembered how to breathe, but he didn’t remember that friends don’t normally steal glances at each other to make sure they haven’t forgotten the way the others eyelashes curl.

_And she smells like lemongrass and sleep,_

After that time passed by in a flurry of train journeys and Skype calls until they found themselves moving in together. The apartment was small, and homely, and it smelt like Phil in a way that made Dan hope, if he got to stick around long enough, he’d start to smell like that to.

Phil was the smell of lemongrass and early mornings blinking sleep from weary eyes, he was the smell of the food they took turns to cook and film marathons that ended at 4AM, he was the smell of home and something no one could ever place but Dan had decided was how sunlight would smell if it had a scent.

_She tastes like apple juice and peach,_

In a short time they’d grown so close that people barely referred to them separately, instead saying _Dan and Phil_ as if they were one entity, singular. Everything was the best it could be, and Dan finally had a best friend, someone he could turn to no matter what.

Except that tugging in his chest had only grown stronger with their friendship and was now persistently disrupting Dan’s thoughts with questions of how Phil would taste, lips pressed tenderly against his, or how it would feel to be held firmly in his arms as he fell asleep.

_You would find her in a Polaroid picture,_

_And she, means everything to me,_

Nearly two years had passed since they first met now, and their audience had started to catch on to the way Dan looked at Phil like he was more than a friend, even though he wasn’t, would never be as far as Phil was concerned.

It seemed clear to everyone, from just the short snippets of film that captured parts of their lives, how much Phil meant to Dan, and through the distortion of the grains and colour it seemed they saw that Phil felt the same way. Yet out of the yellow and blue tinged haze of a video Phil was seeing someone who made him happy, someone who wasn’t Dan, and Dan was starting to fall apart.

Phil meant everything to Dan, and yet to Phil Dan was a simply friend who was kind enough to go for long walks when he invited his girlfriend over.

  _Oooh,_

_I’d never tell, no I’d never say a word,_

The first time it happens Dan’s been crying. Sobbing hard in a dark corner of his bedroom with his legs clutched tightly to his chest in the hopes it will dim the pain of his screaming lungs as he gasps for breath. And then Phil’s home, and he finds him like that, tugging at his own hair like a mental patient, and Phil doesn’t say anything, just holds Dan as he screams about law school and the universe, until he cant even speak anymore because he’s pretty sure his throat is bleeding.

Dan falls asleep like that, still in Phil’s arms, the occasional choked exhale still forcing itself from his chest as his breathing evens out. Dan is pretty sure he hears Phil whisper about how _everything is going to be okay_ , feels the gentle press of lips press against his forehead, but he isn’t sure, and neither of them ever mentions it again, or any of the other times Phil holds him as he falls apart, so he guesses it was just wishful thinking.

_And oh it aches, but it feels oddly good to hurt,_

Eventually Dan drops out of law school. He also stops screaming about the universe and how pointless everything is, instead choosing to lie down and contemplate because he’s finally figured out no amount of screaming will change anything. That also means the hugs become much less frequent, Phil choosing to spend more and more nights at his girlfriends now that his flat mate isn’t having a mental break down from stress every other day.

It’s also around this time that their channels start to take off, more people taking notice of them and YouTube in general, their so-called shippers becoming increasingly vocal in their fandom. Every time someone mentions it Phil will brush it off with a dismissive laugh while Dan’s denials and rebuttals of accusations they are in a relationship become more and more vehement.

The tugging Dan used to feel has turned into a constant ache that throbs through his veins, doubling back and increasing a tenfold every time he thinks it can’t possibly hurt anymore. He doesn’t mind the pain though, because the thing that’s hurting him is also keeping him alive.

_And she smells like lemon grass and sleep,_

Phil and his girlfriend eventually call it quits one night, accusations thrown over not devoting enough time to her, rebutted with harsh words about his job being more important _right now,_ all soon followed by the slamming of doors and yells to not call her.

It all echoes around the apartment, easy to hear for Dan through the thin walls, and in the following days it settles like dust, blanketing the rooms in uneasiness.

Its only a week after that that Phil suggests moving to London, with words about how it would make things easier with their jobs with the BBC, and how that’s where most of their friends live, _wouldn’t it be nice to be able to see them more often_? Dan is quick to agree and after that things move in fast forward until they are settled into an apartment decorated with fan art and merchandise in a way that couldn’t be more _them._

Dan thinks this new apartment smells like both of their scents mixed together. He isn’t sure if he preferred when home just smelt like Phil.

_She tastes like apple juice and peach,_

A few months after moving in Dan feels himself start to crack under the pain. The heartache is becoming too much again and Phil hasn’t even noticed there is anything off with him. So he decides to go out for a couple of drinks on his own to clear his head, a terrible idea on his part, and soon enough a couple of drinks has turned into more than a couple of shots, and Dan’s absolutely off his face but still all he can think about is Phil.

Soon enough he finds himself kissing someone, but its all wrong because even though their hair is the same as Phil’s their eyes are only blue, and they don’t smell like Phil does, or taste right on his tongue.

Suddenly he’s throwing up, and the persons is yelling at him and storming out of wherever the hell they are, leaving him sobbing on the floor, shirt covered in his own vomit.

He falls asleep and wakes up there, stumbling home at 11AM the next day feeling both lucky and unlucky to be alive. All the way back he tries to get a cover story for where he’d been straight in his head, only to find Phil’s out shopping because _I ate the last of your cereal_ , and by the time he gets back carrying several bags Dan’s all cleaned up and no one has to know.

_You would find her in a Polaroid picture,_

_And she, means everything to me,_

Dan never does that again. Instead he starts to devote himself more to his channel and his audience, making content that’s he proud of and even posting somewhat regularly, scripting, filming, editing, uploading, distracting himself from having to think about the ever present throbbing in his chest.

By this point in their time together, Dan’s started to forget what life was like before he found Phil. Their routines so intertwined that when either is away its hard to adjust because they are so used to working around each other. Mornings waiting for the other to wake up to watch anime, evenings of debating what snack to have with their movie because _for the last time Phil we cant have both_.

Phil has become Dan’s everything, but when Phil looks at him it’s always in the way you look at a friend, and nowadays with a hint of concern. So Dan stops looking at Phil so much and starts looking at adverts for other apartments that he never brings himself to visit because they wouldn’t _smell right_.

_And I’ll be okay,_

_Admiring from afar,_

In the next few years things get a lot busier. Their channels are growing and they have regular radio shows, and then they’re writing a book, and planning a tour.

They both let themselves get swept up in the roller coaster of _Dan and Phil_ for a while, but in the calmer moments between the rush, and the short weeks of rest where Dan doesn’t even bother turning on his straighteners, he takes time to remind himself that it’s a brand, that he can only watch from a distance as Phil takes his sunshine and looks for other people because he’s _getting old now_ and _we should try to find someone before we’re both past it._

The joking laugh on the end of the words feels like it’s at his expense.

_Cause even when she’s next to me,_

_We couldn’t be more far apart,_

Then, in what seems like seconds, the UK tour of TATINOF is nearly over, and even though they’ve spent months together in close quarters it feels as if they’ve never been more distant from each other. The physical proximity, with no relief for such extended periods of time, has caused Phil to withdraw emotionally, and Dan isn’t sure what to do.

At this point he is certain Phil knows about his feelings, but he hasn’t said anything, and Dan is too scared of breaking this carefully built façade to bring it up. So they both sit in uncomfortable silences that they’re waiting for the other to break so they can get back to some kind of normality, but neither ever says a word and the silence drags on.

_Cause she tastes like birthday cake and story time and fall,_

It all comes to a head after the final UK show, a heady mix of post show adrenaline and alcohol filling both their minds until neither are really seeing things clearly.

They stumble from a taxi and into their home in the early hours of the morning, leaning on each other for support as they fumble with keys in an attempt to open their front door. When they finally do Phil pushes on it with enough force that when it opens both are sent sprawling to the floor, dazed, inebriated, and giggling at each other.

He isn’t sure why he does it, he knows it’s a bad idea, but as they both lie there, trying to calm down so they can at least attempt to stand, Dan leans over and connects their mouths.

Phil’s lips are softer than Dan remembers them being against his forehead all those years ago, his mouth sweet and intoxicating from the many cocktails he’d consumed earlier that night, and the feeling of hot breath against his cheek has never been so appealing.

Soon he is pulled from his blissed out state by the realization that Phil isn’t reciprocating, and he hadn’t exactly asked if Phil wanted this. Pulling back he took in Phil’s shocked expression, the way his lips seemed to be involuntarily twisting in a disgusted frown, and then he ran.

As soon as his bedroom door was locked the tears came, chocked sobs tearing themselves from his lungs and up his esophagus, quiet mutters of _oh god, oh god what have I done_ falling from his lips into the otherwise silent room. Then he heard Phil’s footsteps heading down the hall, the occasional bump indicating he had stumbled into a wall, and he held his breath hoping if he stayed silent Phil wouldn’t come and confront him.

He didn’t, and soon softs snoring could be heard from the other room. Dan made sure to muffle the rest of his sobbing with a pillow so as not to wake him.

_But to her,_

_I taste of nothing at all,_

By the time morning came around alcohol had done the job of erasing Phil’s memory of the kiss, so as that, when they both rose from sleep, everything seemed almost exactly the same as the previous day. Except that now Dan knew how Phil’s lips tasted against his, even though Phil didn’t remember anything about Dan’s lips at all.

_And she smells like lemon grass and sleep,_

_She tastes like apple juice and peach,_

_You would find her in a Polaroid picture,_

_And she,_

_Means everything to me._

**Author's Note:**

> Wattup, how are you? Sorry about any pain i caused, complain to me about it by commenting, and if you thought my writing was mediocre at best leave a kudos so i can maintain whats left of my self-esteem? Also, if you'd like me to post a version of this with a happy ending let me know and ill get on that for you peeps. Thanks for reading, tata.


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